Free The Black Stallion's Blood Bay Colt by Walter Farley

to get the halter off immediately, so he kept running, trying to chase the colt into a corner of the paddock where he could get his hands upon him. But always there would be the quick twisting and turning of the slim legs and the colt would be away.
    Finally Tom’s eyes lit on the open door of the box stall and then on the Queen. He ran inside the barn and to the grain box. Taking a container of oats, he poured it into the Queen’s manger, calling loudly and banging the empty container against the side of the box.
    The Queen came through the door and moved quickly to her feed. Behind her followed the colt, staying close to his mother.
    Tom went into the stall again and closed the door. Without hesitation he approached the colt, who now stood between the mare and the side of the stall. Tom moved quickly, pushing the mare to one side to get to the colt. He had to get the tight halter off now. For the colt’s own good, he couldn’t afford to be patient.
    The colt moved to the front of the mare, then to the other side of her, and Tom followed. He went around the Queen again before he was able to get the colt in a corner of the stall. He had his hands at last on the small, writhing body. The colt’s eyes were white with fury and fright, and his forelegs struck out as Tom pinned him against the side of the stall.
    Tom reached for the halter and the colt fought with such frenzy that only the boy’s desperation gave him the strength to hold the heaving body. He had hold of the buckle; he pulled; the strap loosened. Tom tore the halter off the colt’s head and flung it down on the straw; then, sickened by the sight before him, he stepped back and away from the colt.
    He watched him go to the mare and, trembling, snuggle close to her. He saw the blood come to the open welt, slowly at first, then even faster, until rivulets of blood ran down the small nose.
    Weakly, Tom leaned against the wall. Why had he let this happen? And then his face flamed in anger. He didn’t deserve Jimmy’s confidence! He knew nothing about caring for horses! He was stupid! A fool! Anyone should have seen that the nose band was too tight. Anyone!
    â€œBurn the halter. Burn it.”
    It was his uncle’s voice, and Tom turned to findhim standing by the door. How long he’d been there he didn’t know … or care.
    Tom didn’t meet his uncle’s eyes. He just stood there unseeing. But a few minutes later, the door opened and his uncle entered the stall. It was only when he was going past Tom that the boy angrily turned to him. “Keep away from him!” he shouted. “You’ve done—” He stopped when he saw the whiteness of his uncle’s face. Tom’s gaze fell. What good would it do to take it out on his uncle? Sure, he could say it was his uncle’s poor eyesight that was responsible for his putting the halter on so tight. But
he
was more to blame. It was
his
colt. He should have made sure the halter fit correctly. He couldn’t say it was the darkness of the stall that was responsible for his not noticing the tight nose band. He had no excuse. He should have made certain last night. It was too late now.
    â€œI was just goin’ to get the halter,” his uncle was saying “I’m goin’ to burn it, if you won’t.” He had the halter and was leaving the stall, when he stopped in front of Tom. His sad eyes sought those of the boy. “I’d let it bleed good, Tom. Bleedin’ will help,” he said in a low voice.
    Tom nodded, but didn’t raise his eyes.
    It was only when Tom heard his aunt calling him that he left the stall. He didn’t feel like eating, but it would be better if he went to breakfast. Aunt Emma would ask a lot of questions if he didn’t, and he didn’t want to talk about it. He would let the welt bleed a while; it would help to cleanse the cut and reduce theswelling. After breakfast he would do what he